


A Flower, A Scythe, A Death

by Yolonolobroyo



Series: this hurts [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Geno needs therapy, M/M, No happiness here, Past Relationships, and anger management, and there's nothing we can do about it, death is a big dumb dumb baby, death is sad forever, hanahaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 04:55:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15284124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yolonolobroyo/pseuds/Yolonolobroyo
Summary: What do you do when you have hanahaki, but you can't get surgery and you can't die?You suffer.Obviously.





	A Flower, A Scythe, A Death

**Author's Note:**

> I'm crying. Again. :).

Death and Geno had been acquainted for quite some time now. It was hard not to be, when Geno was, for all intents and purposes, immortal as Death himself. Immortals tended to band together. It was easier that way.

 

For years, Geno was cold and distant. Death didn't mind- everyone was in his presence. Geno didn't seem to understand his own lack of mortality, nor had he ever come to terms with it. He foolishly continued living in denial, he foolishly continued to befriend mortals when he knew he'd outlive them…

 

And Death foolishly followed him, because Geno was interesting, and if there was one thing Death lacked in his day-to-day not-quite life, it was interest.

 

He'd been angry at him, at first, for driving away any friends he might have made. He snapped and snarled and yelled, but Death stayed.

 

Centuries passed. Children were born, children died. Everyone was a child in Death’s eyes. Geno saw. Geno watched as his scythe ripped through flesh and blood and what-have-you, and he saw him grieve every single child that passed under his scythe. He sat with him and didn't yell, he didn't glare or blame him. He just stayed and offered his company. Death could not be more grateful.

 

\---~~~---

 

Death sighed. The human girl sleeping in the hospital bed wouldn't feel a thing. For once, she would be free from the very thought of pain. He wished he could give Geno that reprieve.

 

The scythe swung down.

 

\---~~~---

 

After some time, Geno had warmed up to him, more or less. He didn't yell ~~he'd always hated yelling~~ and they spent more time together. Some people would have considered Geno's presence a death omen. Privately, Death was somewhat amused. Geno didn't seem to mind as much.

 

\---~~~---

 

The woman whimpered and sobbed, clutching her stomach where a lucky bullet made its home. Death wasn't supposed to take her for a few minutes.

 

She screamed.

 

Death took a look at her face- she didn't deserve this, the inability to move or breath or speak without pain ~~he knew exactly how bad it was.~~

The scythe swung down precisely 2.76 minutes too early.

 

\---~~~---

 

Death saw many things in the world. Very little surprised him now.

 

He and Geno grew closer. It was nice to have someone to rely on for some occasional spontaneity. But one of the most surprising things he'd found was not brought to his attention by Geno, but rather a rather ordinary reaping.

 

The monster choked and wheezed as they lay helplessly on the ground. At first, Death assumed it was a plague- they were not uncommon nowadays- but then the monster did something rather peculiar.

 

They coughed up a series of red roses.

 

Death recoiled in shock, accidentally letting the poor creature suffer for longer than necessary. He murmured an apology as the scythe came down. He attempted to shove one of the roses in his pocket, so he could show Geno and perhaps Lady Alphys or Lord Gerson later, only for it to wilt immediately.

 

He did end up asking Lady Alphys later that week (year? Century? Who knew at this point?).

 

She told him it was caused by unrequited love.

 

Love? he'd asked. How could love kill even a mortal, Lady?

 

He'd been foolish then, too.

 

\---~~~---

 

A house fire. A young man, trapped in an upstairs bedroom.

 

The scythe swung down on blackened skin and boiling blood.

 

\---~~~---

 

Death would have wondered if he was ill, if such a thing was possible. When he gets too close to Geno, his face becomes bright and feverishly warm. His chest feels lighter than it should, and he's suddenly lost the ability to speak clearly or do much of anything without making a fool of himself. It unnerved him.

 

\---~~~---

Death found them in an alley, saw the flowers, and he Knew.

 

A young man, a person, and a rejection.

 

The scythe swung down two weeks ahead of time.

 

\---~~~---

 

Geno also began exhibiting symptoms of his strange illness.

 

Why did he have to do it so much better? Death felt that Geno was missing the whole 'feeling unwell’ aspect of being ill. Or if he did have it, he wasn't showing it as much.

 

“Hey Death,” Geno muttered. Death hummed.

 

“Have you ever liked someone? Like, romantically?” Death didn't have a heart. It was physically impossible to feel like it was trying to escape his body. And yet, it happened. How did he respond?! Asgore, he was not prepared for this! Oh Asgore help him, he was a thousand year old being made for death and destruction, not love! Stars, what did he say?! He didn't even know if he _could_ like someone that way! If he lied, Geno would know and possibly be annoyed, but if he didn't, Geno would get stuck in his head, and that could be dangerous.

 

He settled for “maybe”. Geno hummed.

 

“Why?” Geno's fever seemed to rise as his face flushed.

 

“No reason.”

 

“Oh?” Death purred. “Are you suuuurrrrrre~?”

 

“Mmmmmmyyyyyeeeaaah?” Death looked at him skeptically. Geno wouldn't meet his eye.

 

“Hey Death?”

 

“Yes?”

 

You wouldn't mind, would you, if I...if I wasn't interested in women?” Death looked over, startled. He chuckled, and suddenly he was crying with laughter. When he'd finally caught his breath, Geno was near tears and getting up.

 

“Geno, wait, come back, it's alright. I'm just... surprised.”

 

“Mmm?” Geno sniffled. Death kicked himself. He'd been so thoughtless, and now Geno was hurt.

 

“Yes, well,” he cleared his throat and did his best 'I-am-a-mighty-death-god-tremble-before-me’ voice, “I have existed since the beginning of time, You are not the first homosexual man I've met.” Geno smiled. Death's temperature spiked.

 

At least Geno couldn't die. He was sure, now, that he could never reap him.

 

\---~~~---

 

Blood pooling in the sheets, a knife, an old man.

 

The scythe swung down.

 

\---~~~----

 

He would never have noticed before Lady Alphys told him. Geno stared at him from across the room. Death looked over, and, yes, he looked away, again. He was beginning to get rather frustrated. If Geno needed something, anything he could just ask. He knew Death would do it for him.

 

Right?

 

Death summoned all of his nerve- he found it took much more courage than before to even speak to him- and walked in his direction. He opened his mouth…

 

And his courage abandoned him.

 

As Geno would say, typical.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Salutations,” he choked.

 

“Did you need anything?” Oh, how the tables turned.

 

“Erm, no, I find I've forgotten my intention in approaching you.” Geno chuckled. Why did he feel so much better?

 

“Well, if you remember later, you know where to find me, Lord Death,” Geno teased. Death smiled shyly and nodded. Geno turned and left.

 

“Why brother!” He heard Papyrus croon behind him, “ had I been more easily fooled, I would think you loved him.”

 

And Death's world came screeching to a halt.

 

\---~~~---

 

A monster.

 

“Why doesn't he love me?” he sobbed. The daisies crawling out of his throat cut him off.

 

The scythe swung down a full hour before it should have.

 

\---~~~---

 

Death had been confused and afraid. He didn't think he was capable of love. He didn't know if he wanted to be. Not that it was the end of the world. He was still working, Geno was safe from his work, he was okay, but damnit, _why_ did he have to fall for him?

 

Death had a lot of mixed feelings, which was strange. He didn't know he was capable of such a wide range of emotion. He wasn't created to be. He was created to be cold and distant. He was supposed to give them death, the only mercy he should have been allowed. This complicated things.

 

Geno rushed past him, and Death watched as he ran to the library. He assumed the pitch black of the void had gotten to him again.

 

Love was not available for him. That was a simple fact. Ice was cold, mortals were temporary, and Death could not fall in love. So why was he thinking and feeling this way?!

 

He headed to the library. Perhaps there he could find some answers.

 

\---~~~---

 

Geno introduced him to a small group of skeleton mortals. They seemed excited, if not a bit wary, and Death instantly felt attached. When was the last time a mortal had not been lying at his feet when they smiled at him? When would be the next?

 

Yes, he quite liked these mortals.

 

\---~~~---

 

Death had wandered into the library, thanking Asgore that the books were not alive so he could touch them without them crumbling to ash.

As he scoured the sections most closely associated with his current predicament, he heard violent coughing and retching. He followed the noise, despite knowing there was nothing he could do.

 

Or so he'd thought.

 

Geno was there, coughing and choking on flowers Death couldn't recognize. He gasped. He knew what was happening, he just... didn't know what to do about it, nor what would become of Geno, an immortal, when the illness reached its peak.

 

He noticed a book on Geno's lap. Something something hanahaki, something love flowers death blah blah blah. He didn't see anything about fixing it. Absolutely useless. The day he came to relate to a book more than the other Gods was a sad ~~but ordinary~~ one indeed.

 

Geno looked up at him and sobbed. He suddenly launched himself at a frozen death god and clung to him.

 

Death slowly wrapped his arms around him. He hoped he couldn't hear his soul thundering behind his ribs.

 

Geno's sobs tapered off into shuddering breaths, and then they smoothed out into deep, even breaths. Neither moved. Geno was probably asleep. Death should be doing his job. He didn't move.

 

Geno whispered his name hoarsely. So he was awake then. Death looked at him just as Geno slammed their teeth together.

 

\---~~~---

 

A small family, buried under the rubble that had once been a home.

 

The scythe swung down on them one by one.

 

\---~~~---

 

Death loved Geno. It was a simple fact: ice was cold, mortals were temporary, and Death loved Geno.

 

To their mortal friends, Death was not frightening. To them, he was calm and relaxed and loving. Geno was happy that a mortal could finally understand.

 

\---~~~---

 

A child had run into the street. Blood pooled around them as their mother frantically tried to stop it, call for help, anything to delay the inevitable.

 

The scythe came down to a melody of screams.

 

\---~~~---

“-that’s not what I meant.”

 

“Well it sure as fuck sounded like it!”

 

“Geno, dear, I'm sorry I upset you, but I really don't understand what's wrong,” Death said, trying hard to stay calm. They both had quick tempers, and Geno was already upset. Someone had to stay level headed.

 

“You- I- agh!” Geno growled. He stormed away from the field and into the void.

 

Two hours later, he came back and wrapped his arms around his partner. All was forgiven.

 

\---~~~---

 

A small kitten had run in front of a truck.

 

It's owners hadn't found out yet.

 

The scythe came down on a blood soaked mound of fur.

 

\---~~~---

 

A mortal had become ill.

 

Ordinarily, Death wouldn't be able to speak to them until they passed, but this was different. This was one of their mortals, and they knew very well what was wrong.

 

Lust had developed hanahaki.

 

Geno was searching frantically for ways to fix it.

 

Death did not.

 

“Don't you fucking care that one of our friends is fucking dying?!”

 

“Of course I care, Geno, but I can't do anything without killing him immediately,” Death replied, trying and failing to keep his frustration under control. How many times had they had this conversation?

 

“Oh, yeah, you can't touch a fucking book on the subject. Totally forgot. So fucking sorry, my Lord.”

 

Never had  he used Death's (embarrassing, overdramatic, and frankly, rather misleading) title in this context. It had always been used in sweet banter and an amused tone. He'd never sounded so angry when he said it.

 

He stormed away.

 

Death waited. That's what he always did when Geno left to calm down, because he _always_ cameback. He'd be back in a couple hours, ready to talk about things, and they'd both apologize, and they'd figure out what to do from here. That's what they always did.

 

He waited.

 

Geno didn't show up.

 

\---~~~---

 

He sat by the mortal’s side. The purple clad skeleton they'd befriended was trying to catch his breath.

 

“I'm truly sorry about this,” Death sighed. “If there were something I could do to help you, I would not hesitate, but unfortunately, my hands are tied.”

 

“It's fine,” Lust wheezed. They sat in silence for a few moments before Death had to leave. He'd already been putting off his job for too long.

 

After reaping the young child, Death was preparing to leave for the next reaping when he heard something about 'lovesickness’ in the next room. Curious, he listened in.

 

“I heard that the surgeons are testing a new treatment for it.”

 

“Heartache? How can a surgeon help with your inability to handle a break up?” Another voice scoffed.

 

“That's not what I meant. You know that thing?”

 

“You gotta be more specific, man.”

 

“The, uh, flowery...heart...thing.”

 

“The what?” The other person whined.

 

“C'mon, you know, the _thing_.”

 

“Hanahaki?”

 

“Oh my god, yes. That.”

 

“That's good.”

 

“Yeah. They like...cut you open and pull the plants out.”

 

“Ew.”

 

“Gross, but effective.”

 

Death grinned giddily.

 

“Lust!” he boomed. The skeleton jumped an glared.

 

“What?”

 

“I have-” he posed dramatically, “-a solution!” He proceeded to tell Lust everything he'd heard.

 

Two weeks later, Lust walked out of the hospital, free of deadly flowers.

 

Two weeks later, Death was still waiting for Geno to come back.

 

\---~~~---

 

It had been months ~~years~~? since their argument, and Geno still hadn't chosen to speak with him. Anytime he tried, Geno would either snap at him or ignore him. His chest ached, and he felt nauseous with guilt. He felt, as Geno would say, like shit.

 

He coughed. The pain spiked.

 

\---~~~---

 

Today was a particularly busy day. A wildfire had erupted near a small town and spread quickly.

 

Death traveled from one burned body to the next, silent as the smoke in the air. He saw mortals rushing, yelling, trying to save as many lives as possible. He smiled sadly.

 

The scythe swung down on twenty, thirty, well over forty souls ready for reaping.

 

\---~~~---

 

The pain grew worse. He could barely speak nowadays.

 

“Brother?”

 

His attempt to reply resulted in blood dribbling down his chin and a single leaf fluttering down and landing on his cloak. It stayed bright and colorful. It felt like a challenge.

 

“BROTHER!” Oh. Yes. Papyrus.

 

“I'll be fine,” he rasped.

 

He wasn't.

 

\---~~~---

 

An elderly woman had fallen.

 

The scythe swung down.

 

\---~~~---

 

Watching Sci and Fell was nice. They were very close friends, but Death could tell that Sci wanted more. He held out his hands, and the petals outweighed his desires. He received the surgery.

 

He and the others went to wait for him. Fell was not doing well.

 

The surgery went well. They left Fell to sit with Sci. It felt too private for so many.

 

As they wandered off to get snacks or drinks or whatever they left for, Geno walked by Death. The air was tense, but it was so, so much better than it had been in years. When they returned, he felt Geno lean against him, and he knew he shouldn't get his hopes up, really, it was all he could do to get Geno to look at him most days, and he knew it would only be worse after the initial relief wore off, but he felt like maybe one day they could go back to the way they used to be.

 

\---~~~---

 

A baby, not even born yet, and their mother, a young woman, had run into complications weeks before the due date.

 

The scythe swung down.

 

\---~~~---

 

If seeing Sci suffer was bad, seeing Fell watch his crush love someone else and refuse treatment was so much worse. He could almost feel Fell's time running out.

 

What was worse?

 

Geno knew.

 

“How many more of my friends are you going to take before you start trying to help instead of being a fucking prick?!” Because it didn't matter that he'd tried to convince Sci and Fell and Dance and Lust to get the surgery (he succeeded twice; only Fell was able to get Sci to do anything), it didn't matter that they were his friends too, it didn't matter that none of them had died yet, it didn't matter.

 

“You've already reaped Lust-”

 

“No, he's still very alive-”

 

“Shut the fuck up and let me finish!” He'd always hated the yelling. He hated arguing. He hated this.

 

He left Geno screaming behind him.

 

\---~~~---

 

Movie night.

 

Death liked movie night. He never had time to sit through the whole movie, but he found he had a lot more spare time now. Sure, he had to keep aware of himself so he didn't accidentally kill someone, but having his friends around him, happy and smiling, was his idea of a perfect day   ~~since Geno walked away.~~

 

 

Today, Sci and his boyfriend were bringing snacks (he found he particularly liked sugar cookies) while he brought the movies from Blue's house. What's better, Fell was joining them for the first time in a year! He was dying for Sci, so clearly he wouldn't want to make all of the events, but Death had missed his company and commentary on movie nights. It made the whole thing feel much better. It seemed he would need it more than usual, because tonight, movie night was at Geno's house.

 

 _Why_ Geno had a house when he could be anywhere in the immortal plane was beyond him, but he figured Geno was still in denial about his immortality. Knowing how stubborn Geno was, he had a feeling he wasn't far off.

 

He hesitantly knocked on the door.

 

“Oh, it's you,” Geno snarled, and the roots wrapping around his ribs tightened.

 

“I brought the movies,” Death muttered, trying to hide the slight wheeze as he raised the box. Geno let him in.

 

Geno stomped into the living room. Sci and Fell glared at him as Blue helped Death get the movies sorted.

 

Death could hear him have a hushed conversation with Sci and Fell as they tried to defend his honor. He felt vaguely flattered.

 

He could pick out the exact second Geno tried to use Sci's incident as an excuse. When Fell snarled at him, when Geno mumbled his apology, the first since nearly ten years ago, and Outer burst through the door.

 

\---~~~---

 

He sat by his brother in the darkest corner of the throne room, spine held straight and stiff by the roots crushing and slowly mangling his bones into new, wretchedly dysfunctional shapes. Blood dripped from his teeth nearly constantly now. He swiped it away. He had a job to do.

 

He was in a familiar apartment, and he could hear choking and desperate screaming coming from the bedroom. He swiped at his jaw again where more blood had collected and followed the sound.

 

Oh.

 

Oh no.

 

Sci was holding Fell in a sea of petals. He was crying loudly.

 

“Sci,” he murmured gently, “you need to let go.” Fell’s breathing was fading, and he needed to reap the soul immediately after death. Sci just shook his head.

 

Death sighed. If he could give him more time, he would. He would have given them all the time in the world to say goodbye. But that wasn't in his hands. He ( ~~ _carefullypainstakinglygentlydon’tkillhimyetdon’tletittouchhim_~~ -) slipped the blade of his scythe into the back of his shirt and tugged him away. He turned to Fell.

 

This is why he didn't make friends with mortals. Or anyone else, for that matter. They're only temporary, and one day, he'd reap them, and one day he would break.

 

He blinked away tears, prayed Blue and Sci and Fell and Dance and Outer and Lust and Geno would forgive him.

 

Pleaseforgivehimforthis.

 

Fell smiled.

 

A monster sat in a sea of petals.

 

The scythe swung down.

 

\---~~~---

 

The funeral was by far the worst event he'd ever attended.

 

Or it _would_ be, if he was allowed to get close enough to pay his respects.

 

His mouth was leaking blood again, but he couldn't do much about it. His sleeves were too covered in the vile liquid to be of any use in getting rid of it. He floated everywhere now as well. The roots of his cypress had firmly entangled his legs. He feared that if he got too close to a solid object, he would be rooted to it.

 

Geno was standing before him again, screaming ( ~~he’d told him he hated it~~ ) with tears running down his face. His heart ached.

 

He hated hurting Geno. He hated reaping souls. He hated the weapon strapped to his back. He hated feeling so _awful all_ the time, emotionally and physically. Death hated Geno's pride, he hated how much Geno loathed him, he hated how much he still cared about him regardless of how much he'd hurt him, but most of all, he hated the fact that he and this damn sickness and this fucking tree and that _goddamn scythe_ existed in the first place.

 

He left the funeral.

 

He returned to the grave that night, and every night after.

 

\---~~~---

A child.

 

A soldier.

 

A baby.

 

A woman.

 

A person.

 

A man.

 

A monster.

 

The...scythe..swung….

 

He dropped the scythe.

 

\---~~~---

 

Death sat by Fell's grave. It had been nearly two years now. He was surprised it wasn't longer.

 

He stared at the clouds in the night sky. Geno always liked those clouds, the big puffy gray ones that meant rain was coming.

 

“I'm sorry,” he rasped. No one answered. That was fine. He was used to talking to himself.

 

“If I could have done otherwise, I would have,” he continued to plead. He closed his eyes. He could feel the indents the tree roots had made in his bones. His ribs could not expand to give him the breath he desired, but it was alright. He didn't really need it anyway.

 

Something rough began to scratch at the back of his eyelids.

 

Bark.

 

His eyes snapped open, and two little branches popped out of his sockets.

 

He chuckled and began to sob.

 

He was the first to mourn but the last to receive comfort. That was a simple fact. Mortals were temporary, Death was a fool, and he would never be allowed to feel better.

 

How could he be, if he was never supposed to feel anything at all?

 

He rose. There was no time for this.

 

He had a job to do, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Suchamazingness
> 
> Scifellaus


End file.
